In my younger years, my first grapple with the MMO genre was with a devious game called Everquest. As a denizen of the world of Norrath, my Half-Elf Paladin was one of hundreds of thousands of people taking their first steps in what many of us didn’t recognize to be a bold new genre of video game. I was thirteen at the inception of my first character, but it wouldn’t occur to me until my third year of playing that I dawned upon some of the MMO genre’s greater machinations for the entire industry. For years my father, brother and I toiled away at the keyboard; kiting, pulling and dying countless times over simply to have the satisfaction of filling just one tiny portion of our experience bar. While championed for its higher difficulty and lack of forgiveness to even the most innocent player, Everquest was a trial-by-fire for most gamers, and its flaws became difficult to ignore.

Not too much time later, Everquest was succeeded by the still-undisputed king of MMO gaming, World of Warcraft. Where Everquest sought to achieve a world of roleplaying intensity and personal dedication, the minds at Blizzard took a more scientific approach to success. By creating content that appeals directly to one of four distinct types of gamers–explorers, achievers, socializers and killers–it was all but impossible for a gamer to not find something to enjoy while strolling through Azeroth. Coupled with an easier learning curve and a specific focus on reward rather than punishment, World of Warcraft quickly escalated the MMO genre to new levels of untapped potential. Since its launch in 2004, WoW has been the icon of MMO superiority and few others of its kind have even scratched at the success Blizzard has reaped.

But if there is one lesson I have learned from my ongoing romances with being a nerd, it is that perfection and evolution will be lifelong enemies. As I once transferred my online passions from Everquest to WoW, I have repeated from World of Warcraft to Bioware’s long anticipated MMO Star Wars: The Old Republic. The passage of time will always open the door to greater degrees of criticism, especially for games like MMO’s that are never truly complete. Unlike most games that incubate in development for years before a final product is released, MMOs seem to perpetually exist in a purgatory between polished content and bold concepts that beg to be included, yet are without proper direction and professional testing. With that in mind, a reviewer is tasked with playing (and evaluating) and game that, in essence, will never be finished. In this regard, games like The Old Republic stand unique. Other accredited sites such as Game Informer, IGN, or Kotaku always do their best to encompass as much they can with what little time they are given, and in that sense I attempted to do the same.

The philosophy of Old Republic is quite similar to its predecessors in that a player must choose a side, a race, and a class to properly define their role in society. Fortunately for Bioware, the Star Wars franchise tends to have more iconic roles that even casual fans are familiar with. To parallel the roles played in the Star Wars movies, players can choose between being Jedi, Sith, Han Solo-esque smugglers, Bounty Hunters, Republic troopers or Imperial Agents. Character creation is fairly straight forward in terms of physical customization and class decision, but given the great detail to weapons and armor most physical traits will largely go unnoticed as they are buried underneath more intricate layers of cloth and metal. To be completely honest, I paid little attention to my race and whatever facial scars I gave him as past experience dictated most attention would be paid to how “badass” I looked when standing in any given public place.

From there, players are quickly introduced into the universe Bioware has painstakingly produced to create what I believe is the closest experience to the Star Wars universe since the original trilogy. For years Bioware has been expertly crafting entire encyclopedias’ worth of lore and historical impact for every game they develop, and Old Republic is no different. As the authors of the acclaimed Knights of the Old Republic games, it stands to reason they alone could create a world that not only adhered to the mechanical rules of an MMO, but could also tell several distinct stories that compelled the player across an entire galaxy to complete. From the first introductory cinematic to the climactic final battle, every single class carries a story arc that travels with them from level one to fifty. For most game developers it would be enough to stop there; eight separate story lines that must keep each player traveling from planet to planet is difficult enough, but those at Bioware have long known the best details lie in the smallest places.

For years, the term “grinding” has become an unfortunate process for MMO games: acquire quests, kill monsters, gain experience, reach the next level, and repeat. No matter the person, place or setting, this was long considered the ‘norm’. I admit to knowing this concept while playing WoW as it was a somewhat satisfying quality I had grown accustomed to since Everquest. While I freely admit the Old Republic is victim to the same process, the attention paid to context makes almost all the difference in the world. Like World of Warcraft, the majority of your time is spent completing ‘missions’ to gain money and equipment, but Bioware pushed the boundaries further by giving every single story, mission and group instance its own unique story and context.  Whenever I am slaughtering Jedi or infiltrating a Republic base, the conversations with the AI characters and background intelligence I gather all but dissipate that feeling of grinding. In a sense, the experience I was rewarded was more of a byproduct to furthering the story thread itself, as I was more committed to helping the Empire solidify their presence on a certain planet and help weaken the Republic. It may seem as a finite quality to have, but around level thirty you will appreciate how much you are still invested in the story rather than getting closer and closer to the level cap.

Furthermore, the voice acting given to every single AI character you interact with is no easy or unnoticed accomplishment. If the plot is a vehicle you’re interested in buying, the voice acting is the salesman that hands it you. No matter the mission, the voice acting remains varied and professional across the entire game and will remain one of Bioware’s shining accolades. The sheer amount of different accents, dialects and languages you encounter across the entire game will be more than enough to make you appreciate how much effort went into pushing the boundaries of storytelling in an MMO atmosphere.

Although the combat formula is relatively unchanged from World of Warcraft, it is certainly no less familiar. Players will have several unique abilities meant to attack the enemy or heal themselves, combined with specialty skills that contribute to group efforts. As players progress, they are given the opportunity to choose a sub-class that gives them a unique set of abilities specific to their role in the game. If you are a more defensive player, Bounty Hunters can become Mercenaries that have special healing abilities for themselves or others. For those that are more inclined for damage dealing, Jedi knights and Sith warriors can customize their abilities to affect several enemies at once and help put out as much as damage as possible. Moreover, personal morals come into play in almost every mission as dialogue trees give specific points to the light or dark side of their character. If a player is a man of mercy, letting P.O.W’s survive will promise light-side points, but deciding to kill the lot and cover up the evidence will lead to dark-side points. Advancements in either side lead to unique rewards that can only be worn by people of pure benevolence or evil, thereby furthering a player’s desire to polarize their character to one side or another.

player-versus-player combat has become a significant portion of modern day MMO games, and it is with some regret that I found the Old Republic’s offering a bit lacking. Standard group arenas provide the most natural form of combat between sides, but the newer aspects are where Bioware’s game lacks the most polish. In the higher levels, players are granted access to an entire planet dedicated to PvP combat, yet in most cases players of both sides will find themselves cooperating with the enemy simply to achieve mission objectives for experience and better equipment. While the idea of an entire PvP planet is potentially impressive, the execution leaves something to be desired. If future patches implement specific bonuses to abilities, increased experience gain or access to unique story missions, the ideal conditions will prevail and players will slay each other as originally intended. Fortunately, other aspects prove to be innovative perspectives on cooperation in regards to an arena called “Huttball”. In this arena, players attempt to fight each other while they move a large ball into the enemy’s territory. It may seem simple enough, but even the smallest degree of organized teamwork and the operation becomes an intense tug-of-war between offense and defense that keeps the PvP scene fresh. Additional modes and concepts like these are sure to reinvigorate the currently flawed PvP system and give Star Wars the lightsaber/force choking tour de force it deserves.

It is an obvious truth that all genres of gaming are subject to natural evolution. As Everquest provided a rudimentary structure to a 3D online gaming environment, World of Warcraft built upon it by providing a more inviting and casual process that reduced the punishment and punctuated the rewards for advancement that all types of players could enjoy. From there, the Old Republic continues the evolution by infusing that same process with an engaging plot that maintains intrigue and suspense from beginning to end. Though not without flaws, The Old Republic deserves its worthy praise for its polish, balance and execution of combat and narrative development that are without rival in the MMO genre. In the months and years to come, there is no question that the minds at Bioware have created a product that may finally rival its competition in a way not seen before. My only hope in the coming future is that no matter how successful the Old Republic may be, it will not make the same mistakes its predecessors have since learned to avoid.

See you in the next level,

Gray

Cast aside what prejudices you have against Nintendo; let go of the fanboy arguments and die-hard allegiances you may belong to. Video games are, like other media, diverse and fascinatingly engaging. They are about telling stories, about paralleling reality, about imbuing power in the hands of the player. But underneath all of that, there is a common element among all games–having fun. The Legend of Zelda has been Nintendo’s flagship series since the days of the NES. Most would agree that Zelda games are system pushers, guaranteed to put Nintendo’s newest console in the homes of many, and they’d be right.

But Skyward Sword is not simply a Wii-pusher. It is not worthy of settling for such casual adjectives like “great” “entertaining” or “moving”. It is what I can only admire as a video game masterpiece. Seldom are games made that can perfect the balance between passion, technology, adventure and innovation so intuitively–and I’ll gladly admit the Wii is a system far removed from the term “intuitive”. But Nintendo has no qualms taking time and patience when it comes to their precious Zelda series, and it shows brighter here than ever before.

At its heart, Skyward Sword is a story about childhood friends coming through for one another. Link and Zelda share a definite emotional bond that surpasses anything depicted from past Zelda games. Though the story turns into one about destiny and salvation, Skyward Sword never strays from the friendship these two share as you can feel the emotion emanate from Link each time he gets closer and closer to saving Zelda.

But Nintendo also ensured the “destiny” portion would not be left waning either. As the story unfolds, you are shown the deepest insight into the legends of the Triforce and Master Sword than ever before, each temple seemingly unfolding one more chapter into Zelda lore that fans have been clamoring for ages to know. For the hardest of core, Skyward Sword does not disappoint. Perhaps the game’s greatest achievement is intertwining these distinct yet connected stories into one poetic tale about two friends discovering more about themselves–and their world–than they ever thought possible.

Speaking of the world, Skyward Sword takes the Zelda franchise to the skies and beyond, literally. Traveling is accomplished by soaring through the skies on the back of Link’s trusted bird, called a Loftwing. Taking full advantage of the Wii Motion Plus addition to the Wii Mote, tilting and angling the Wii mote is all that’s needed to send link gliding through the clouds from one land to another. For those who remember Wind Waker, flying definitely brings back memories of sailing through the ocean on Link’s talking ship, but now feels perfectly refined and incredibly easy to use.

But Skyward Sword’s biggest challenge was integrating that same level of integration into combat. Since we first learned that Link would have true one-to-one combat motion with the player’s movements, everyone has been wondering if Nintendo could actually pull it off, unlike Twilight Princess’ constant waggling motion as an excuse for sword swinging. After playing through Skyward Sword, however, I don’t think I can ever go back to normal button-mashing ever again. The combat controls are so smooth and precise to my own movements that at times, I admit to even feeling a bit like Link himself. Most of the enemies you face in Skyward Sword are built on this new premise as well, quick to punish those who try to mindlessly swing their way through the crowds. Temple bosses don’t just take the usual 3-round attacks to die; each of them require a new level of timing and precision that no Zelda before has ever come close to.

Also new to the series is the ability to customize your equipment. Through the collection of various bugs and items dropped by monsters, Link can exchange them for unique upgrades to either his equipment or potions. A few rare bugs will boost a red potion to maximum efficiency, while a few monster horns and ancient flowers can upgrade your bow’s damage (though to be fair, I’m not quite sure how that works). While the upgrade process works great, the collection portion has a few nagging issues. The sensitivity of catching bugs quickly becomes more frustrating than it is worth, and the constant sub-window popping up every time I collect something occurs so often you’d mistake it for Navi from Ocarina of Time (HEY! LISTEN! YOU PICKED UP AN EVIL CRYSTAL! HEY! LISTEN! YOU PICKED UP SOME MORE MONSTER TAILS! and so on…)

Finally, I want to commend Skyward Sword for the natural feeling of evolution from beginning to end. While it is true most developers strive for a narrative backbone that can progress relatively naturally from one point to another without sacrificing depth or pacing, it is incredibly difficult to achieve. While most of the Zelda games are excellent in their own right, I never quite felt like the story was taking me somewhere besides simply saving a royal princess. Skyward Sword, on the other hand, succeeds where its predecessors could not. Perhaps it is because of the emotional context stated earlier, but I believe it’s much more than that. As one progresses through Skyward Sword, the narrative leaps are never too great, and the feeling of something being left out or avoiding plot holes has completely disappeared. It is an adventure in its purest form, from beginning to end. Blazing new trails while paying humble homage to what made past games so memorable, Skyward Sword is both a tribute and a new chapter for the Legend of Zelda series. Though I’m sure Nintendo has many more triforce related stories to tell us, I’m happy to say this is undoubtedly the greatest Zelda game ever made, and one of the greatest games ever designed.

The times when people look back over the years to utter something like, “Now that’s how it’s done!” are admittedly few and far between. In video game debates, they’re even fewer. But once in a while there comes a time — stars align, lightning in a bottle, Rick Perry says something intelligent, whichever you prefer — when everything just clicks. The Uncharted series has been nothing but outstanding since the original title debuted back in 2007, but the boys at Naughty Dog have done the near-impossible. Roger Ebert can take his anti-game diatribe and suck it, Uncharted 3: Drake’s Deception is both a video game and cinematic masterpiece.

For those who haven’t had the pleasure of playing any of the Uncharted games yet, a quick summary: Nathan Drake, a descendant of the famous explorer Sir Francis Drake, is a wily, charming, yet somewhat lackadaisical thrill seeker and treasure hunter. All games of the franchise have revolved around some kind of plot regarding a lost city or unimaginable ancient wealth. Uncharted 3 is no different in that way, Naughty Dog obviously didn’t want to tread the same terrain again. This time, designers take a proven plot-line as a background to tell a much richer character-driven story about Drake and his mentor/partner Sully. While the earlier games revolved around Drake platforming and gunning his way to stop the bad guys just in the nick of time, Drake and Sully are in this together nearly the entire way, which adds a more compelling nature to the intensity. Not only is Drake getting himself into trouble, but he’s also putting Sully’s life in danger as well and, let’s face it, he ain’t exactly in the prime of life either.

To most, platforming can sometimes be a mixed-bag. Hell, anyone who’s ever played Mario or Mega Man knows about that, but the Uncharted series takes it a step further with some fantastic set pieces. Uncharted 3 just about goes for broke with Drake facing a capsizing ship one minute and falling out of a cargo plane at 20,000 feet the next. There are times when the platforming seems a tad bit out of place (particularly when Drake is climbing the side of buildings in the middle of the day,  in the middle of town, for example) but these are rare enough that they never feel repetitive. The true magic behind Uncharted 3 is how much the formula has been mixed up, in a good way. From one corner to another, Uncharted 3 keeps you guessing about what’s going to happen next. Just when you’re about to guess the next huge escape or next gunfight, Naughty Dog throws something out of left field and changes the sequence entirely.

The cinematic quality of Uncharted 3 is just as stellar, if not more so, than ever before. I’m not sure how Naughty Dog has learned to write such fleshed-out characters or such a tight and entertaining script, but I wish they could give seminars to other developers to show them how it’s done. From the beginning, one of the best features of the Uncharted series has been the characters because they stay so true to themselves. No matter how major or minor the person’s role, Naughty Dog clearly shows the highest attention to detail not just to the environment or the combat, but to the people we are supposed to connect with and feel for. We know Drake is a wise-cracking everyman without too much care in the world, but it’s in his friendship with Sully that we see an entirely new part of him emerge. It’s a wonderfully fresh detail given how many ladies Drake has saved in his day.

I could go on and on, but there’s really nothing I can say without rambling over the same point again and again. From start to end, Drake’s Deception is nothing but a thrill-ride of adventure and emotion brimming with tight gunplay and a wildly entertaining script and story. If there were ever a game to put on your Christmas list, this is it.

See you in the next level,

Gray

I doubt Clearasil will do any good...

Upon finishing Arkham City, I utilized the several minutes of credits to process the final hour of game play as it rocketed toward the ending. Amidst a few plot twists (some apparent, others more subtle), everything comes to a screeching halt as the Joker cackles his very last breaths. We knew his illness was not in question, but the closer and closer I came to the ending I was actually beginning to wonder if Batman would remain a symbol of justice and cure him or not. His last few sentences were both heavy and morose, yet one could taste the pity toward his greatest nemesis as he lay dying at his feet.

And then, without some colossal explosion or final trick up his sleeve, the Joker was dead. It was undoubtedly a moment of victory for Batman, yet the final scenes played out as brilliantly as I had hoped. Much like I think many gamers felt as the truth sank in, Batman seemed as shaken and emotionally touched as he left Joker’s body with Commissioner Gordon and walked away in silence–No quips, no talk of incorruptible justice or moral fortitude, just the haze of death.

What struck me the most, however, was how much improved this aspect of Arkham City was over its predecessor, Arkham Asylum. While both games are incredibly well done and a thrill to play, there was no denying the ending of Asylum was a bitter disappointment. Instead of a potentially epic clash with a super-charged Clown Prince of Crime, it was just a repetitive sequence of beating up henchman interrupted with quick injuries to Joker himself. When compared to the rest of the game, the entire experience felt rushed and without the polish gleaming through every other corner of Asylum.

Arkham City corrected this error, though not in the way I anticipated. Much like before, there was no real fight with Joker, and Clayface served as a mediocre interim boss.  The weight and consequences of the fight, however, gave more impact and meaning to the boss fight itself. While it was not a fight against Joker, it was dooming him to death, which was something even I did not want. In a way, I actually felt sad to see him die, despite how heinous he had become. And that, in my opinion, is a beautiful death.

I suppose the Joker dies twice when you think about it.

See you in the next level,

Gray

Above all else, however, people want to know why. Why make such a difficult game? Why play it, or even more, why even try to beat it? With Batman: Arkham City just hours away from release, why continue subjugating oneself to a near-constant stream of deaths when the same time could be spent uncovering a brilliantly woven tale of Gotham’s most insidious villains seeking to bring the Dark Knight to his knees? The answer, I think, is where many gamers might not think to look.

Released back in January this year, Amy Chua’s Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother received a fair amount of controversy for its views. In it, Chua details her experiences as a mother using a very strict, ethnically defined “Chinese” method of child-rearing. Wrought with anecdotes of denying sleepovers, birthday parties, and even bathroom breaks during piano practice, Chua’s ultimate purpose was to show how Eastern parenting methods place academic excellence paramount to a child’s self-esteem—something she describes as an importance of “Western” parenting.

Now the idea of comparing these two objects might seem farfetched, but allow me a moment to elaborate:

Context

It’s relatively safe to say that as of the past several years, video games have gotten easier. Whether it’s a wider selection of difficulty modes, a growing plethora of checkpoints, or using tutorials to gently help the player master new abilities before continuing on, there’s no doubt that games have slowly grown softer in order to include a wider audience. While that is by no means a mistake or error on the designers’ part, it isn’t without certain side effects. Now, if you were to ask an average gamer to beat a few levels from Mega Man 3, the required trial-and-error needed to master each would often prove to be too much for them. Most would become frustrated—even outright angry at times—and some would probably just flat give up. But to those who grew up in the older generations of gaming, this was the norm. In order to avoid the dreaded “Game Over” message, you needed to practice.

Much like how Chua compares Eastern methods of parenting to Western, Dark Souls is a stark challenge to how most gaming has become. Without mercy and demanding perfection at every moment, Dark Souls is not a game meant to punish, but to discipline. In a sense, the difficulty is almost a side effect to the philosophy From Software seems to implement, in that they built an excellent game that necessitates an equally excellent player. As a pianist must slave through hours of mistakes and failures to master Islamey by Mily Balakirev, so to must a player spend countless hours to complete even one level of Dark Souls.

The Anti-Rage

In one account when one of her daughters acted out in disrespect toward Chua, she quickly responded by calling her daughter “garbage”. Many parents were outraged to hear Chua defend her words proudly as her strict father called her that in a native dialect on several occasions while Chua grew up. Chua later explained that calling her kids with such aggressive names did not damage their self-esteem, but only instilled shame and guilt in what they had done. Her daughters, as Chua came to learn herself when she was young, eventually understood how their parents’ demands were proportional to how much they respected them as family. Chua knew her daughters could do better, and more importantly, so did they.

It might seem unorthodox to fight fire with fire, but the practice is quite common in video games that exemplify difficulty. By now, many players can probably attest to a point at which they, for lack of a better word, “raged” at Dark Souls. Maybe they died just when they had the boss in his final moments; or they fell down the same hidden pit for the umpteenth time; one reason or another, many enter that phase where they play Dark Souls in anger, acting in disregard of the usual precision required to survive. And, like a stern parent with no tolerance of insubordination, the player dies even quicker than before, usually from some enemy or obstacle they already mastered long before.

This isn’t by mistake. What many gamers touched upon while playing Demon Souls back in 2009 was this unusual sense of understanding between themselves and the design of the game. Yes it was difficult, but players eventually understood they had the tools to conquer it. They may have reached a point somewhere in the game that tested their patience to the ultimate level, but players knew they would have never reached that far if they didn’t have the skill. It was after my own “rage” moment that I finally calmed down and realized that this game respected me enough to continuously challenge me from level-to-level. And to conquer it, I needed to return that respect. Dark Souls has simply taken that same method and perfected its relationship to the increased difficulty.

I realize that comparing a video game to literature can, at times, seem obscure or too high-winded for usual gaming articles. My intention here is not to be another writer that excuses Dark Souls’ difficult nature, but to hopefully look at its design from another angle that may help better explain why From Software chose to amplify their title to such chaotic levels of hard. No matter the reason, I can honestly walk away from Dark Souls knowing that I enjoyed myself even more than my time with Demon Souls, and I hope they will continue the their challenging trend.

See you in the next level,

Gray

If you’re one of the many FPS fans out there and you don’t know who id Software is, then I highly suggest opening up Wikipedia and giving yourself a quick history lesson. Won’t take long…

… You back? Good. So, id Software set the standard for FPS back in the early ’90s with some huge hits like Wolfenstein and Doom. Their last foray, however, was way back in 2004 with Doom 3, just before Valve changed the game withHalf-Life 2. In the years since, there’s been a lot of progress made by other studios and id was still quiet on what they had planned. When Rage was first shown at E3 in 2009, much of the older gaming community started salivating at the thought of the ol’ FPS champs coming back to the genre they made famous and showing the rest of the industry how it’s done. What kinds of innovation did they have in store for us? New control scheme? Dynamic story-telling and plot development? Revamped AI or new combat mechanics? None of these, actually. As it turns out, Rage is a very polished, very tight, very status-quo shooter that entertains without innovating.

Now I don’t want to convey the wrong feeling here — I thoroughly enjoyedRage. There is no doubt in my mind that id still knows how to make one solid FPS game. Unfortunately, Rage feels more like a shooter that’s playing catch-up with the new changes and never quite meets the expectations considering the programming pedigree id Software is known for. Perhaps this is a mistake on my part for setting my own expectations too high, or I am being too critical of a title that only means to entertain; nevertheless, I left Rage wanting just a little more.

Rage puts you in the boots of yet another silent protagonist emerging from a vault used to protect mankind from an asteroid that struck the planet in 2029. Life, however, didn’t stop on the surface but the primary inhabitants now are bandits, dismembered mutants, and other nasty horrors roaming the desert. You’re quickly thrown into the fray as many of the characters you come across conveniently use you as their new errand boy or contract killer. The story is one of the lackluster elements of Rage since it never feels important or compelling enough to drive the player forward. If anything, the promise of new weapons, equipment, and general loot is definitely more palpable than where the plot leads to. Over the 12 or 13 hours it takes to complete, it is only in the last few hours that the story stumbles upon its more intriguing parts.

Rage isn’t without it’s high points though. The visuals are nothing short of perfection; despite miles and miles of desert, canyons and valleys, tiny variations and nuances keep any environment from looking recycled. Incredible amounts of detail have been put into each character, weapon and vehicle that really serve to make some moments pop out. Even more impressive is how the entire game runs at a solid 60 frames per second. At no point during any skirmish or fire fight did the intensity ever slow down even for a moment, and that is no easy task to accomplish over such a large world environment.

Speaking on environment, the desert is filled with just about every ill-tempered baddie you’d expect to find in an irradiated wasteland. Rage‘s center point in combat is the variety of enemies you’ll encounter, each of them adding one more level of depth to your strategy. Much like your arsenal, which is comprised of long- and short-range weapons, each new enemy will seek to end you in some new format. Most mutants will sprint toward you in a hale of screams and thrashing, and some of the stronger units will hold back and rain carnage down from a distance. The designers at id went to great lengths to crank up the satisfaction of blasting a mutant and watching them crumble in some new way. In some cases, a well-placed shot will leave a mangled torso still attached to a set of legs still trying to crawl their way to you. Much like the slow-motion camera in the V.A.T.S. system from Fallout 3, the animations never get old to watch.

One underused facet of Rage is a vehicle used to traverse some of the game’s longer treks through the wasteland. Though the vehicle is mounted with rocket launchers and can obliterate bandits trying to run you down, there isn’t much else to use it for. There are points at which you can challenge others to racing matches, but they don’t serve the main story and don’t provide enough incentive to validate doing them. In short, the more entertaining parts of using a vehicle are, at best, just a distraction from both the plot and the more rewarding side quests.

Rage is not a bad game by any stretch of imagination. Quite the opposite, Rageis both expertly designed and incredibly entertaining when it wants to be. People looking for a shooter that forgoes the standard Call of Duty format will find this game absolutely thrilling and a refreshing change of pace. It’s only disappointment is that it could have been more — more compelling, more adventurous, more difficult than what we get. While it’s sometimes tremendously difficult to live up to the expectations of the masses, I feel that id Software has the talent and the experience to live up to its name, and Ragecould have been their return to the throne. But, perhaps for reasons personal to the studio, Rage is built more on what they know, and that’s not a bad thing either.

See you in the next level,

Gray

Upon reflection of the entire Resistance legacy, I noticed that one of its foremost problems was Insomniac’s inability to settle into a rhythm. When initiating a sequel, it’s common philosophy to leave working qualities alone and revamp/replace the aspects that didn’t mesh well. Between each entry, the changes are sometimes so vast that the effect ripples into every other design aspect of the game, forcing tweaks in every category. When replacing the weapon wheel system from the first game in favor of the two-weapon switch most known in the Halo series for the second, the intended effect of increased pacing and anticipated intensity was achieved. Consequently, enemy encounters, automatic save points, the regenerative health capabilities–almost everything needed to be changed to accommodate this variation, thus creating a very different feel that many players were not amused with. The opportunity to select a weapon best fitting the encounter was sacrificed as well, basically forcing players to accept whatever weapon had the most ammunition. Resistance 3 sees the return of the weapon wheel coupled with a an experience system, allowing the player to upgrade their preferred guns. This is one of the few details R3 has over its predecessors and is a welcome addition, though the upgrades are relatively minor improvements. Most revolve around increasing the damage output, with a few of the higher upgrades allow for bodies to become walking explosives, or bullets to travel through light cover.

The visuals remain quality work for the developers at Insomniac. Although R3 sports the blandest of environments and eye-popping backgrounds, the frame rate and visual detail is top notch. No amount of action, no matter how atmospheric or biologically gruesome, the game looks sharp and responsive. Unfortunately, the positives just about come to a halt there. R3 carries a significant amount of bugs that can potentially halt gameplay entirely and force a restart. Clipping issues remain a constant foe as enemies can appear and disappear at any given time. At one point, I was instructed to protect someone as they repaired an elevator to progress through the mine. After clearing the room, I waited while the NPC seemed to just stare at the broken engine. Though the checkpoint I restarted at was only moments away, it’s quite frustrating when the player must replay an event because of a programming error and not a personal one.

But perhaps the largest folly is in the narrative itself which is without punch, fervor or appeal. Our protagonist, Joe Capelli, reminds me of many similar gruff detectives from any cop drama as he exhibits little personality to connect to. Since helping Hale to an untimely grave at the end of R2, Capelli lives in an underground shelter with his wife and child, simply trying to keep them alive. Shortly after Malikov arrives—a veteren scientist in the Resistance storyline—so too do the Chimera and Capelli is forced to leave his family and escort Malikov to New York City. Capelli hardly interacts with his wife or son which lends to the difficulty of crafting emotional appeal for their survival or Joe’s ultimate goal. What little dialogue that is shared between them is fairly hackneyed and unbelievable, turning what should be a tearful goodbye into a sigh-inducing waste of time.

It is of interesting note, however, that many of the journals and excerpts that can be found throughout the levels are actually more meaningful than Capelli or the various people he meets along the way. These journals include everything from notices and Chimera infection procedures to final letters of goodbye to friends and family. There is one particular journal depicting a letter written in crayon to Santa Claus, asking for the war to stop. In that moment, I felt my heartstrings strain more than the rest of the game put together. Other journals are also rife with emotion and chronicle several people’s last stand as they fight off desperation yet recognize the inevitable.  Perhaps these peripheral aspects of the game were under the direction of a different department at Insomniac, but the disparity of quality between the minutia and the grand story is enough to suspect they were not written by the same people.

Another significant change was the revamped multiplayer portion. Unlike its competitors at the time, R2 made teamwork a much bigger aspect of playing online as players could select one of three different classes to help their teammates survive. It was unique enough to provide a fresh spin on multiplayer, yet still familiar enough for players to know what their role was against the enemy. Unfortunately, R3 discards all of this for a generic, not-my-first-rodeo system that borrows just about every detail from other FPS success stories. Kill streak bonuses occur at three, six, and nine kills and cannot be customized at all; higher levels lead to more active and passive abilities to choose from, though the majority are all very similar to the perks granted in the Modern Warfare games; even the modes that are supposed to be unique to the Resistance franchise bear heavy resemblance to modes from other games like Halo, M.A.G. or Battlefield.

Ultimately, Resistance 3 is a title hindered by failed potential: The potential to have a great plot in a unique universe fleshed out by two previous entries; the potential to craft compelling characters struggling with what last shreds of humanity are left on the planet; and the potential to master the qualities done well by its older brethren and become a happy marriage of finely-tuned pacing with personal combat customization and intensity. Sadly, each of these fall short of the high expectations set before them, leaving Resistance 3 as the weakest entry in the series. Whether Insomniac chooses to continue with the series or pass it along to another studio, another sequel will not be without challenge and skepticism.

See you in the next level,

Gray

After a short, yet relaxing vacation in the far off land of Houston, I finally managed to borrow a friend’s 360 long enough to play through a new XBLA title I’ve been hearing more and more about. From Dust, an independent endeavor by one of Ubisoft’s smaller studios, is one of those fairly uncommon ‘God’ games. If one remembers the Black & White franchise from years ago, From Dust is a definite cousin to its style, but still remains original in terms of visuals, landscape, and game play.

Unlike other God games, which give you direct control over pretty much anything in front of you, From Dust settles more on the idea of indirect power; rather than controlling the tribespeople that populate the game, you can only control the actual landscape around them. You can pick up earth from one location and place it somewhere else, or move water away from their village to guard it from tsunamis. Lava is your friend and enemy, as it can devastate your entire tribe in moments or be used to create more land to reach the next totem. At its heart, From Dust is a puzzle game, challenging you to protect the tribe as it moves from place to place without granting you the ability to directly control their movements. That’s what makes it both addicting and frustrating.

The landscape is the main character in From Dust. While you partake in most of the land’s bigger changes, the entire world is dynamic and vibrant all on its own. Oceans can be both gentle and menacing (tsunamis, remember?), volcanoes will sporadically erupt without warning, and your abilities are all that stands between your people and their quick demise. Don’t go into this game thinking a perfect game is achievable: Your people will die, and die often. This isn’t to say your omnipotence isn’t as good as it should be; quite the opposite, it’s one of FD‘s more existential moments when you start to learn that no matter how perfect you are, the world is not. Nature is unpredictable, and that’s where things can get annoying.

Toward the game’s latter half, the difficulty of each level is noticeably higher, as more nuanced godly powers come to your disposal. Since you don’t have control over the tribe, their movements can sometimes be erratic and a little sluggish when it comes time to move to the new location. Moreover, the last few levels have multiple solutions, all of which will require a bit of luck, ultimately. But these are small gripes about an otherwise beautiful and engaging struggle between you and the elements. Without a doubt, my lasting impression after finishing From Dust was one not of disappointment at its brevity, but over the feeling that I could have done it better. Perhaps I could have saved more lives or done it in less time, but when your enemy is Mother Nature itself, I suppose I should just be happy I saved some of them at all.

See you in the next level,

Gray

Now that we’ve hit late August, most video game companies with triple-A titles debuting in just a few short months are starting to crank up their marketing campaign to eleven, most notably EA and Activision. Both companies will soon have a slew of commercials out there touting “real footage” of in-game scenarios so as to claim they have the top-tier graphics found nowhere else. Each time one of these “grudge” matches pops up, I keep wondering if this fight is even worth having. Honestly, take a look at an in-game picture of the upcoming Battlefield 3:

Now, compare it to a picture from its main competitor, Modern Warfare 3:

See this difference? If you can, you’re most likely lying. While I’m sure each game will have advantages over the other (MW3 will run at a solid 60fps, according to Activision), the particle effects, polygon counts, draw distance, and overall presentation are going to be so close to identical. Most of the gaming community won’t even notice or care all that much (the bottom line will always be game play, not graphics). It seems that, for the most part, video game graphics have approached a type of plateau. We might be able to squeeze a few more particles here and there every year, or increase the polygon cap by a few dozen, but other than that it’s about as good as it gets, right?

Enter Euclideon.

I found this video courtesy of Break.com, but it can also be found on their website along with several pictures and commentaries. According to the narrator (who is also the CEO), their company has been working on a new technology for several years that, if it works the way he claims, will truly be the next big step for video game graphics.

Now, the video is several minutes long and loosely describes the concept, so here’s my probably awful attempt at explaining it like he does: Instead of building an environment out of thousands of polygons and shaders, everything it built out of tiny bits of data they call “atoms.” By using these much smaller bits, each object comes out with a much higher level of detail, allowing the player to really get a sense of the object’s size and depth. Not stopping there, apparently even the dirt on the ground is made up of atoms. Instead of a virtual bottom glossed over with a wallpaper-looking ground, plants are trampled when walked over, dirt is shuffled into the air with each step, and much more. I did notice, however, that they neglect to mention the amount of computing power a technology like this would eat up. I’m no computer scientist, but managing bits of data at such a huge level each millisecond must amount to incredible levels of strain on a person’s processor and RAM. Hopefully, with another year’s worth of work, Euclideon will have something mighty impressive to start showing off, and I’d love to see what companies like Ubisoft, Suckerpunch or Valve could do with this level of detail. Only time will tell.

See you in the next level,

Gray

I’m sorry….come again?

I quickly got on his nerves the following days as I pestered him to explain his opinion. But even when he explained his disappointment by the game’s relatively simple narrative and game play mechanics, I stubbornly refused to think my younger brother, a greater and more capable nerd than I will ever become, could not be impacted by such a monumental game. It took a few weeks of discussion and reflection before I started to dawn on the growing transition within the ranks of gamers across the world. For those who wish to be spared by my usual rants, here is the short version: Despite its perfection, despite the hype, and despite all of the praise it deserves, the Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time 3D can be summed up in four words, “It’s Perfect. So What?”

Now that is a crude and very undermining way of summarizing all of the various points one could make about Ocarina 3D, I agree, but no matter how much I changed my view point or attempted to bridge the gap between my own prejudice and that of the younger masses, the answer was the same. Since most of this writing will be devoted to a darker territory than what is usually discussed in video game reviews, check out my other blog on the SA Current to read my direct review of Ocarina 3D. From this point forward, I seek to explore this growing disparity between Ocarina and the modern gaming era and how the greatest video games ever made may eventually become a legend…literally.

Ocarina was, for the most part, a game changer for the video game industry. Since 3-dimensional worlds were becoming a reality, Nintendo sought to set the bar higher than most could hope to achieve. And much like Super Mario 64, they succeeded quite beautifully; the public was amazed, and gamers were enthralled. It was a Hyrule that was better realized than anything our imaginations could come up with. The combat was tight and responive, the environments were diverse, and the story was near flawless. It was, as I continue to reiterate, perfect.

At that time.

Perhaps the biggest understanding I’ve been forced to grapple with is the level of complexity between games of my generation and those played today. Recently on the G4 network (a channel devoted entirely to video games), they hosted their own American Idol-esque tournament to decide the greatest video game series ever. After hundreds of entries, it came down to the Legend of Zelda versus Assassin’s Creed. Two games, whose stories and plot couldn’t be farther apart in terms of game play or creative narration, were being forced together and the public had to choose. But how did it come to this? It was baffling to think of how Altair and Ezio could be compared to Link and Zelda, yet a choice had to be made. But to my expectation, the Assassins were victorious. Not because they were the superior games, but because they were made for the new generation.

Playing Ocarina again after thirteen years was a fascinating experience, both physically and mentally. Aside from getting used to the new controls and having my own Assassin’s Creed moments of remembering how to beat various bosses or solving the nastier puzzles, I saw that Zelda’s core game play mechanics don’t translate quite well after all these years. In a sense, The Legend of Zelda is…well…simple. Moving from one dungeon to another, acquiring the new item that’s essential to defeating the boss, and rescuing the princess at the end, it’s simply not enough anymore. For the new generation, ideals like these are elementary to what they are accustomed to. When I thought about why my younger brother compared Zelda to Assassin’s Creed, I started to see what he really meant. It wasn’t a slight against the games I grew up loving; it was an observation that those titles had less demanded from them then the games made today. And he’s right.

Both games may be an action/adventure game at its most bare, but AC was born through a complex marriage of historical context and science fiction. This was later perfected in AC2 and AC:Brotherhood, with the addition of peripheral characters coming into play and political corruption fueling hidden agendas. What difference is there between Ocarina of Time, Link to the Past and Twilight Princess? Besides huge graphical leaps and updated item management capabilites, the story seems to be exactly the same time and time again. Both series may still be a work of fiction, but the level of complexity between the two is staggering. In a sense, I believe this distinction is what will forever set the older generation’s games apart from what we play today. It by no means dampers the legacy left by predecessors like Zelda, Final Fantasy or Legacy of Kain, but merely points out that like all facets of life, things change. And I fear that if the Legend of Zelda franchise is to thrive for years to come, they too must embrace the winds of change—the dungeon-crawling, heart-piece gathering, green-garbed hero won’t work for much longer.

There is an evolution in the video game industry, one that is changing with break-neck speed. What took the movie industry to reach in 70 years, the gaming industry has reached in just 30. While technology has forever provided the form of the video games we play, we are just now starting to explore their function.  To me, playing through Ocarina of Time again taught me more about what I love than any game has in the past decade. I can let myself become the ol’ fogey who reminisces about games of old where one analog stick was enough and no character model was more than 64 polygons, or I can appreciate what games like Zelda, Banjo and Kazooie, Metroid, Jak and Dexter, Panzar Dragoon, and Chrono Cross taught me. This is an industry I love, and while some of my favorite games may fade away, my passion never will.

And that’s what makes me a gamer.

See you in the next level,

Gray